


Fuckin' Perfect

by Blackfirm



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Post-War, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-23
Updated: 2013-08-23
Packaged: 2017-12-24 10:20:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/938809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackfirm/pseuds/Blackfirm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pansy Parkinson remembers the years after the war, which have been a real struggle for her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fuckin' Perfect

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Beccorsola](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beccorsola/gifts).



A rainy afternoon in Britain – a typical afternoon in Pansy Parkinson's life. The witch was curled up on her sofa, a book in her hands. Her eyes darted quickly over the text in front of her and with every word she read, she became seemingly more fascinated. Suddenly, Pansy's whole demeanour changed though, and she leaned back. The book was discussing the reasons for Voldemort's rise and how the wizarding world had changed after his fall. It had taken them all a long time to recover from the war. Even now, four years later, there were still a few Death Eaters on the run – admittedly, they were very few. Lowering the book, Pansy Parkinson thought back to the first year after the last battle. A long sigh escaped her full lips.

_Made a wrong turn once or twice_  
Dug my way out blood and fire  
Bad decisions, that's alright  
Welcome to my silly life 

During the war, Pansy had fought on the wrong side. Since the Parkinsons were a powerful pureblood family, no one had been surprised when the dark haired witch had stood on Voldemort's side. They weren't quite as powerful as the Malfoys, but influential enough to live a life without any worries. After the war, Pansy had to worry though. Hadn't she fought for it, she wouldn't have been allowed to return to Hogwarts for her last year of education. Most people didn't understand why she had returned anyways – in their minds she was a stupid slag, only following around Draco Malfoy. One more of his lackeys. Pansy, however, wasn't stupid. Behind those dark brown eyes was a cunning mind, realising that she'd have to work hard to regain a position in the new wizarding community.

_Mistreated, misplaced, misunderstood_  
Miss 'no way, it's all good!'  
It didn't slow me down  
Mistaken, always second guessing  
Underestimated, look I'm still around 

At first, Pansy had regretted her decision to return to Hogwarts. Most of her friends hadn't returned – most importantly, Draco hadn't returned. He had taken over the family business and even though he was having a much harder time than she, he kept writing to her. Contrary to popular believe, she was more than just good shag for him. Their relationship had been built on a long friendship, yet the year apart was still testing. Pansy used most of her time to work hard for her courses, inwardly scolding herself for becoming as much of a bookworm as Granger. However, the focus on her studies helped her ignore the constant whispers and rumours following her. Except for Draco, no one knew how much it actually irritated her.

_Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel_  
Like you're less than fuckin' perfect  
Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel  
Like you're nothing, you're fuckin' perfect to me 

He was the reason she kept her head held high, looking as proud as always. After a while, the whispers abided and Pansy even befriended a few students from other houses. What had been unthinkable before the war became reality now. At the end of the year, all her hard work and slow change of beliefs paid out – her scores were closer to Granger's than ever before, and as a result, she got a job offer from Gringotts. As soon as Pansy left the school, she moved in with Draco. No, not in the Mansion – the two of them lived in a flat close to Diagon Alley. It was more convenient for both of them and Draco wanted to sell the Mansion. Narcissa had died close to the end of the last battle and his father had been imprisoned – too many memories were connected to the Mansion for Draco to keep it.

Pansy had hoped that her new life could start after that was over and done with, and at first, it looked as if she could finally be happy. Only then did she learn how hard the year had really been for Draco. The young man had worked his arse off to restore at least a bit of his family name – with little success. The family business was running, but barely made it this first year. He seemed to be on the verge of giving up.

_You're so mean when you talk_  
About yourself, you were wrong  
Change the voices in your head  
Make them like you instead 

Pansy tried her best to be strong for Draco, who kept telling himself that it was his fault that the family business was running so badly. The press at that time wasn't helping matters either – the Daily Prophet denounced everyone who had stood on Voldemort's side. Even those who tried to establish a business and change their ways of living. Theodore Nott had to give up his job in the ministry after an especially dirty campaign; Blaise Zabini's family business went bankrupt after the first year. Gregory Goyle couldn't find a job at all. Not for the first time, Pansy wondered if the reporters realised that they were barely off age during the war. Obviously they had done wrong – their parents had done wrong – but no one wanted to give them a second chance. Luckily for her, the goblins didn't care about her past as long as she did her job well.

_So complicated, look how we are making_  
Filled with so much hatred, such a tired game  
It's enough, I've done all I can think of  
Chased down all my demons  
I've seen you do the same 

It seemed like Pansy's love for Draco wasn't enough. One little article of the Daily Prophet could destroy weeks of his efforts, but while she continually tried to move forward, the man she loved crumbled before her. With each headline concerning his business or their relationship, her hate for the paper increased. At one point, it was enough. Pansy couldn't watch Draco losing himself like that anymore. She yelled at him, he yelled back. Finally, he started arguing with her – some life returned to his grey eyes. At the end of their row, she was in tears, but Draco held her in his arms. This had been the wake-up call he'd needed. When Pansy had locked eyes with him, she had known that they would get through this together – right then, she knew how strong their relationship really was.

_Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel_  
Like you're less than fuckin' perfect  
Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel  
Like you're nothing, you're fuckin' perfect to me 

Draco had started acting more like himself after their argument, but their life was far from normal. The Daily Prophet continued its campaigns and Draco had to start looking for other business options. It felt wrong to him to even consider Pansy's suggestion, but the witch kept motivating him. After hour long discussions on the matter, the blonde finally agreed to look for investment possibilities in the Muggle world. It wasn't that he didn't like Muggles or Muggle-borns – not after everything that had happened -, but it was hard for Draco to shake off everything his father had told him for years.

_The whole world's scared, so I swallow the fear_  
The only thing I should be drinking is an ice-cold beer  
So cool in line and we try, try, try  
But we try too hard and it's a waste of my time  
Done looking for the critics, 'cause they're everywhere  
They don't like my jeans, they don't get my hair  
Exchange ourselves and we do it all the time  
Why do we do that?  
Why do I do that? 

Why do I do that? The question rang in Pansy's head. Why did she even bother opening the Daily Prophet in the morning? Why did she bother being nice when everyone else gave Draco and her so much crap? Of course the papers had found out about Draco investing in some Muggle businesses and they ripped his decisions apart. Worse, however, were the hateful letters from other pureblood families. Many people hadn't yet given up on their beliefs even if they showed a different side in public. People who had been friends of his family for year called him a blood traitor, not worth the name Malfoy. Draco didn't regret the decision he'd made, which made it much easier for him to deal with the press and the letters. The first letter had been a shock, but the ones following were no big deal for Draco. With Pansy by his side, he didn't need anyone else. She kept telling him that it would all work out in the end, that he was worth something, that over time their situation would improve.

_Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel_  
Like you're less than fuckin' perfect  
Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel  
Like you're nothing, you're fuckin' perfect to me  
You're perfect, you're perfect  
Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel  
Like you're nothing, you're fuckin' perfect to me 

Stretching out on the sofa, another sigh escaped Pansy's lips. The reading long forgotten, she put the book on the floor and closed her eyes. Draco wouldn't be home for another hour or two, so a little nap would be a good idea. Thinking about the past always had such a tiring effect on her. Soon, Pansy was fast asleep and only woke up when someone trailed kisses along her jaw.

"Oh, you're back," she murmured sleepily, slowly sitting up. Draco chuckled, flopping down next to her and putting an arm around her shoulder.

"How was your day?" Draco enquired and put a hand on her stomach. Pansy hummed when he rubbed it in slow circles and leaned against him.

"Pretty boring. I wish I could work again… Then again… I really want this." Smiling up to him, she put her hands on his. Draco returned the smile and pulled her closer. She was the woman he loved, his wife – carrying his child. All the family he ever wanted. His past, present and future.

"You're perfect," he whispered before pressing his lips to hers.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a birthday present I wrote for my dear friend Becca a couple of years ago (: Only got around posting it here now.


End file.
